US x UK The French Alliance
by AlfieJ
Summary: When Alfred finds out that Arthur has gone to see France, he ruses in and saves his older friend. But what will happen between the two when the car crashes in the middle of a thunderstorm?
1. Chapter 1

HETALIA AXIS POWERS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME!!

This is a disclaimer. Read it! Reeeeeead itttttttt.

Hehehe, this is for my bestest buddy in the whole entire universe Holly! She loves me really XD Enjoy reading, and excuse the smut. My brain is in a constant gutter -____- First hetalia fanfic, i hope it doesn't fail. And if it does...Then bugger XD

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The blaring American sun beat down hard on the man's back as he sliced through the tall fields of wheat. No modern technology, just him and a scythe. It helped the man think, helped him mull over foreign affairs and offers of peace and alliance that had been made. Despite the heat, he was wearing his signature leather bomber jacket. Perhaps that's how the pilot knew it was Alfred.  
"MR. JONES!" he yelled, running full speed at the tall figure, "ALFRED!".  
The man turned towards the boy who was screaming his name and brushed his rough hand through his caramel blonde hair, a rugged fringe sliding into his eyes over his glasses.  
"Sup dude?" he asked, stretching his muscular body with a grin on his sun-kissed face.  
"It's-England!" the messenger gasped.  
The young nation, who had been happy and calm despite the other man's panic suddenly grabbed the messengers shoulders and glared into his eyes. "WHAT'S HAPPENED TO HIM!?" Alfred shouted, squeezing the man's shoulders tightly, "WHAT'S HAPPENED TO ARTHUR!?".  
"Our spies say he's gone to France! OW! LET ME GO!" replied the boy, shoving the man off of him. "He went to France without telling anybody else! Doesn't that seem suspicious?" breathed the messenger whilst he massaged his shoulders. That American sure had a strong grip!  
"He's gone to see that jumped up frog eating JERK-OFF!?" Alfred exploded, his face set in anger. The fuming American pushed past the messenger and sprinted out of the fields, determination set on his young face. Why had he gone to see Francis!? HE WAS IN DANGER! And he needed a hero. "Lucky I am one, then" he muttered to himself, as he became nothing but a trail of dust in the direction of the airport.  
Thinking about it now, perhaps he had been a little rash. He cut the engine off in his silver Patriot and looked over at the huge mahogany doors of the enemy's mansion through the torrents of rain. Everyone knew about France and his antics...What would he be doing to his beloved mentor!? Alfred growled and jumped out of the Jeep, sprinted towards the doors and then shoulder barged into them, forcing them to open. "ARTHUR!!" he screamed, stumbling into the marble covered hallway. He glanced around and saw the Englishman's jacket on the coat stand. With another angry growl the American bounded down the corridor, frantically searching for his friend.  
"ARGHH!". He stopped in the centre of the hallway, having run around the entire house, and bent over, put both of his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. This place was so HUGE! Even HIS place wasn't as big as France's! Then again, Francis all over. Loud and garish and over the top. No wonder then that people always targeted him in wars! The American heard footsteps and his head shot up towards the sound. After wiping his glasses quickly, the man squinted and saw his father figure, just about to enter a room behind closed doors. "ENGLAND!" he screamed, feeling adrenaline pounding in his veins which drove him on. Ignoring his friends shocked face as he turned around, the younger nation grabbed his older mentor and crushed him to his chest. "Thank God" he whispered.  
"AHHH!!! A-ALFRED!" cried the Englishman, struggling out of the taller man's arms, "what the bloody hell are you doing here you idiot!?".  
Although hurt, Alfred straightened up and looked warmly at Arthur. "I followed you" he stated simply, "what I want to know is why YOU'RE here".  
"THAT is none of your business America, bugger off!".  
As the smaller nation spun around on his heel and stormed away, the larger ran around and skidded in front of him, spread himself wide across the corridor. "You are not getting past until you tell me! You know that darn Frenchman! He'll try to marry you or kiss you or something else obscene!"  
"DON'T BE SO STUPID ALFRED!"  
"THEN TELL ME WHY YOU'RE HERE!!"  
"WE'RE HAVING AN ALLIENCE!" shouted the older nation to his child.  
The American's face contorted as though he had been shot and he looked down.  
"Bonnefoy gave me no choice" the Englishman whispered, "he wouldn't shut up about it...He wouldn't leave me alone!".  
"You could have come to me, Arthur" whispered the bigger nation as he solemnly walked past the other, brushing their arms together as he did.  
"You're the one who split from me, you wouldn't want to help me...You hate me"  
"If you believe that" whispered Alfred, not looking back at his mentor as he walked towards the mahogany doors again, "then you'll believe anything. Go and run to Francis, Arthur. He'll be waiting to put your name next to his on that certificate". He reached out and put his hand on the handle of the door before he felt a soft pressure on his arm.  
"I'm probably going to need consolation after this" murmured the smaller man, letting go of Alfred's arm, "you can wait for me".  
The larger of the two smiled a touch and nodded. "I'll wait in my Jeep, I would suggest staying here but I don't trust that Frenchman. You're defenceless whilst you sleep against that pansy".  
"Agreed" replied England, giving his son a rare smile, before he turned around to face his fate.

The edgy nation glanced at his watch, again, and groaned. Three hours. THREE HOURS Arthur had been in there. "If he isn't out in another minute" growled the American, "then France is gonna have some explaining to do". Five more minutes ticked past and Alfred finally snapped. He scrambled out from the jeep and burst into the mansion again, storming towards the room where England and France were.  
"Er...I have someone waiting Francis, can you send me the paperwork in the post?".  
"Are you not going to stay?" whispered the European softly, standing up with Arthur, "there are plenty of rooms here all with big, soft beds...And it is a terrible night".  
"No, I really should get going" Arthur replied, slowly walking backwards as the Frenchman backed him into a corner.  
"You know" Francis whispered in a smoky voice, "we'll be spending a lot more time together with this new alliance...".  
"I, er, I have to go Francis...let me p-past".  
The Frenchman reached out and touched Arthur's cheek. "You don't have to...".  
"ARTHUR!!!". The American burst in and shoved Bonnefoy out of the way, reached out and pulled Arthur into his chest to which the Englishman didn't protest. "You stay the HELL away from England" Alfred growled in a fearsome voice, "you even LOOK at him in the wrong way I'll wipe you off the face of this earth before you can say ooh-la-la!". With that he clutched Arthur to him and ran out of the house.  
"L-let me go" Arthur said, blushing in the bigger mans grip, "N-nothing happened-d".  
"He was about to RAPE you!" the larger man hissed angrily, the sound of the growling engine matching his vicious mood.  
"Don't be so melodramatic!" his companion snapped, strapping himself in, "I can take care of myself, you know!".  
"NO YOU CAN'T!" the fuming American retorted, speeding down the highway.  
"SLOW DOWN YOU BLOODY MANIAC!" Arthur cried, clutching to his seat for dear life.  
With set eyes Alfred swerved violently through the traffic, pressing his foot down on the accelerator which matched his racing temper. "DON'T TELL ME HOW TO DRIVE!" Alfred snapped, before suddenly the vehicles engine cut out. "CRAP!" he shouted, grabbing the wheel although it did no good as the Patriot hurtled down the bank and crashed into a collection of bushes, out of the sight of the road.


	2. Chapter 2

Due to some requests, I have added more smut into this -___- Heh, I just hope there aren't too many spelling mistakes

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The American groaned and let go of the steering wheel whilst the airbags deflated, a soft trickle of blood rolled down his face and dripped onto his jacket. "Arthur?" he whispered slowly, looking over at his friend, "are you okay? I'm sorry...oww". He swayed a little with dizziness, but when the smaller man didn't reply he forgot about his own pain and slid out of the jeep, rushed around to the other side and gingerly took the others seatbelt off, slid his arms underneath his legs and torso before he lifted him out of the car into him. "Arthur?" he whispered, carrying the man quickly beneath the protection of a huge Oak tree whilst the rain continued to pour, "speak to me" he whispered.  
The Englishman groaned and curled his hands into fists on the younger nations chest, clutching his shirt desperately. "Y-y-you're bleeding" he whispered quietly, looking up at the American.  
"It's nothing" Alfred murmured, slowly lifting Arthur off of him and onto the floor. The larger nation took off his jacket and draped it over the smaller man beside him. "Stay here" he murmured, standing up and walking into the rain again, "there should be some camping gear in the trunk". Alfred trudged across the field and grabbed the tent and the sleeping bag, put them both over his shoulders before he looked back. That darn English dumbass! He was limping towards him through the storm, wincing as he walked. "You're impossible" he muttered, quickly striding over to Arthur and lifting him onto his shoulders. Surprisingly there was no struggling on the smaller nations part, and he busied himself with putting a bright pink band-aid over the cut on the bigger man's head, much to Alfred's discomfort. "I am going to put up the tent" he said, putting his mentor down on the dry ground, "and you are going to get changed out of those wet things. I have some clothes you can borrow...". Alfred went back into the rain and was in the process of putting the tent up when he heard the other comment.  
"Hurry up to bloody idiot, you're shirt is almost see through!".  
Alfred turned to look at Arthur and smiled when he saw the blush on the man's cheek. "If it bothers you then why do you stare?" he asked. With a mischievous grin he took his shirt off and tossed it towards Arthur, his tanned skin now shining in the moonlight from the rain. "Right!" he said, hammering the last of the tent pegs in, "go and strip off, you can use my jacket to cover yourself up...when you're done just put your wet clothes outside the tent and we can wash them tomorrow". He smiled again at the blushing nation and moved across the field, trying not to slip over. But, of course, he did. There was a clap of mighty thunder followed by a flash of lightning and Alfred cried out in fear before he slipped over into the mud. "Crud!" he cried, stumbling up.  
By the time that Alfred had returned to the tent, he was covered head to toe in mud and dripping with rain, although miraculously the clothes he had gotten for them were dry. "Arthur? I got some of my clothes, you're--". Alfred stopped as he crawled into the tent and saw Arthur naked before him, only his jacket covering him. The younger nation blushed, his skin tinting deep red and he reached out, handed the older man some clothes. "They might be a bit big" he murmured, biting his lip as he slid away, "but they're dry...I'm going to change outside, erm...yeah". Just as he got out of the mouth of the tent and his face was battered with rain he felt a tugging on his arm. The larger nation cried as he fell back into the tent, landing on his tailbone he groaned.  
"Don't be stupid you bloody moron. You'll just get more wet out there!".  
"It was going to get some of the mud off!" Alfred snapped back, but he crawled into a further corner of the tent and then blushed again. "Sorry it's a bit small" he whispered, "this is a four man tent...but it turns into a one man when I'm in here...cramped" he added.  
"It's fine" replied Arthur, "are you going to sit in your wet clothes all night? Come on, get out of them" he told Alfred, as he buttoned up his borrowed shirt.  
After hesitating for a moment the Yank unzipped his pants and slid out of them before he chuckled. "You're buttoned up all wrong Arthur!" Alfred exclaimed, leaning over his companion, "come here...". The American slowly undid Arthur's shirt again but instead of doing it back up he stopped, just holding Arthur's shirt open.  
"Get on with it you twat, I'm freezing here!".  
"Arthur..." whispered Alfred in response, lifting his hand to catch the Englishman's eye.  
"A-are you okay A-Alfred?" asked the older man, red blotches of blush rising on his skin.  
"I...I er...". He slowly bent forwards so the older man laid back beneath him. "Arthur" he whispered, reaching up and stroking the Brit's cheek with his shaky hand, "you're...you're blushing...".  
"I'm not the only one" he got in reply, as the father figure beneath him reached up and held his cheek. "You've got warm skin" the Englishman commented.  
"You're cold-d" Alfred whispered back, before he slowly bent and then hesitated. "Earlier you said I hated you, Arthur".  
"S-s-so I did-d-d".  
"I could never hate you" the American replied in a whispering voice, before he slowly bent and pressed his lips to the neck of the blushing man beneath him whose breathing had already increased from normal.  
"A-ALFRED!" the older nation gasped, his eyes wide, "What-t-t are you doing-g?" he exclaimed as the younger nation slid his hand down his chest and onto his crotch.  
"I'm going with my feelings" he whispered. "Arthur, when I saw France with you today...it made my blood boil. I was ready to murder him! But in the back of my mind, I...I had this feeling. The thought about what it would be like if I was in France's position, if you were trapped by me...If I was to kiss you. If I was to hold you...". Alfred took a deep breath before he forgot all of his apprehensions and kissed the man beneath him, the pent up feelings that had been building within him being released in that one kiss, and Alfred clutched the Brit closer to him, slipped his tongue through his mentors lips.  
"Nghh" Arthur moaned, giving into his own feelings and pushing his tongue through Alfred's lips.  
The American groaned himself and moved his lips from Arthur's, started to kiss down his chest. "I've never done anything like this before" he whispered, his lips moving past the older nations belly button, "but I'm not scared...because that's what love is, Arthur". One of his warm hands slipped to Arthur's boxers and snuck beneath the material.  
"AHH! A-ALFRED!" cried the Brit, tensing his hand into the groundsheet beneath them.  
"I love you Arthur".  
With a grin the yank pulled Arthur's boxer shorts down with his teeth and then, without hesitation, slipped the man into his mouth.  
"Nghh, A-Alfred-d-d, I, I love you too! NYAHH! ALFRED!". Arthur groaned and clamped his eyes shut, pushed his fingers more into the ground through the plastic sheet at the bottom of the tent.  
The American grinned and began to softly suck whilst his hand slid between the Brit's legs and gently rubbed as Arthur squirmed.  
"HAA! AHH! NghhhUH! A-AHH! ALFRED!". The Brit squirmed more beneath Alfred's scrutiny and his hips automatically jerked upwards into Alfred's mouth, making the American shock backwards, choking.  
Alfred slowly crawled up and took a deep breath before he moved to Arthur's side and brushed some hair from the sweating forehead of his father-figure. "Are you okay?" he whispered, worriedly, "was it...okay?".  
The British man shot up and suddenly kissed Alfred in a fit of passion, crushing their lips together almost desperately. Consequently Alfred fell backwards and Brit was straddling his waist as they kissed, the two men's hips rubbing together.  
"NYAH!" Alfred gasped as their hips made contact. With a new feeling of lust running through him, Alfred pushed up and grabbed the smaller man's wrists, pinned them against the tarpaulin floor.  
"A-Alfred" whispered the older of the two, shaking with fear, anticipation and excitement all wrapped together in one, "what-t are you doing-g-g?" he repeated as he had said the same thing earlier.  
"I have no idea" he growled, tightening his hands around Arthur's wrists and pressing them harder into the ground, "which makes it more thrilling". The younger of the two removed his boxer shorts and then positioned himself between the Brit's legs, kissed the man beneath him before he slowly pulled apart his legs.  
"Nghh, nyahhh" moaned the English nation against the American's lips, breathing hard. He had an idea of what his former son was planning...and he was preparing for that pain that would come. But he also knew that there would be pleasure in it...He had never seen Alfred so crazed and alive! It made him smile...It made him smile that he could cause Alfred so much pleasure!  
As their tongues intertwined the pounding in Alfred's hips grew and he tensed his strong muscles, desperately trying to hold it back...The feelings...But he couldn't! "I love you so much" the large American growled against the others lips before he moved forwards and penetrated Arthur, immediately gasping for breath as his mentor cried out to him.  
"AHH! ALFRED!" Arthur cried out, tears leaking out from his tightly closed eyes, "Is this-AHH!-position OKAY!? HAAA!".  
"It's...fine" hissed the larger man in return groaning as he continued to pound in and out of his companion, the lust and want completely blinding him to anything else as sweat built up on his arms, beads of it sliding down his arms which were bulging with tensed muscles onto the man's chest beneath him as he gasped for breath.  
"I-I missed you!" gasped the brit, clamping his hands down onto his partners as the tears grew from leaks to streams.  
"I'm sorry I ever hurt you" he whispered, stopping for a moment, just feeling that connection with his lost companion...It was amazing. And the Englishman wasn't the only one that began to cry. "The last time we where together in the rain" he whispered, bending his head and pressing it into Arthur's collorbone, "was when i made a catastrophc mistake of leaving you behind me...I never wanted to. You're eveything to me Arthur, you were once my sun and my moon, my day and my night...And I threw it away".  
The Brit has stayed silent through this, but as he felt Alfred's tears drip onto his skin he felt like he had to speak up. "That day" he whispered, "when I let you leave it...it was the biggest mistake of my life. Even bigger then taking you on in the first place" he said with a chuckled, stroking Alfred's head as he grew used to the feeling of the American inside him. "But it was either letting you go or killing you...I could never hurt you like that, Alfred. I distance myself from you to try and mask my own feelings for you...I love you".  
The larger of the two lifted his head and suddenly kissed the other with a firey passion, the hand of the man beneath his curling into his damp, scruffy hair as the man ontop began to vigorously move his hips again, Arthur's desperate moans of lust and pain mixed together in an explosive amount of pleasure was muffled by the Yanks urgent lips. "Al!" he managed to gasp, before a shock of confidence hit him. He was the older, and his former child was doing all the work! Using all of his energy he pushed up on the man, making them tumble to the side. He sat back on Alfred's member as gasped as the American reached full penetration. After he took a deep breath, Arthur slid his hands up Al's muscular chest and curled his hands into fists.  
"A-Arthur" Alfred struggled, clenching his teeth, "don't push yourself for me".  
"I'm n-n-not Alfred" he whispered in response before he ground his hips forwards and backwards, his hands tensing more tightly into the American's chest as loud, ragged out of control moans flew from his heaving chest, the pounding in his mind over taking the torrents of rain battering the tent around them. This whole experience, making love in a way deemed wrong and sickening in some places felt so...so good, so right! Like he had finally found his purpose again, to be with Alfred. To make him happy.  
"Ahhh, AHH! ARTHUR!! A_A_ARTHUR!" gasped the men beneath him.  
The Brit bent and kissed him wantingly, now not only grinding their hips together but lifting his, too, and dropping them down again. The resulting pain was excrutiating, but the pleasure overpowered that.  
The feelings bursting through him and his body as Arthur moved on his were indescribeable. Wave after wave of pounding, desperate pleasure rushed through him and caught in his hips, the man desperately trying to hold it back. But he couldn't take this anymore! The American growled and clenched his teeth, rolling them again as his forehead dropped onto Arthur's shoulder. "I can't...I-I can't hold—ARTHUR!". Alfred moved in and out of the older country a few mroe times before he pushed all the way into the moaning man beneath him and let himself explode into him as he breathed hard. As the tent stopped shaking around them, he pulled out and rolled onto his back beside the silent Englishman, his heart pounding desperately. The black spots started to disappear from his vision as he gulped air, staring blankly at the top of the tent.  
"Alfred" came a soft whisper, "A-Alfred...Y-you o-okay?".  
The larger nation rolled onto his side, facing the man who had a worried expression on his face. "I'm fine" he replied, "you're crying...". Alfred reached forwards and stroked the tears away from his mentors cheek. "How bad did it hurt?".  
Arthur blushed and gingerly shuffled forwards so his face was pressed into the other's chest, his warmth running through him and calming him. Alfred's warmth..."It wasn't so bad" he sniffed.  
"Don't lie to me Arthur...".


	3. Chapter 3

The American groaned and let go of the steering wheel whilst the airbags deflated, a soft trickle of blood rolled down his face and dripped onto his jacket. "Arthur?" he whispered slowly, looking over at his friend, "are you okay? I'm sorry...oww". He swayed a little with dizziness, but when the smaller man didn't reply he forgot about his own pain and slid out of the jeep, rushed around to the other side and gingerly took the others seatbelt off, slid his arms underneath his legs and torso before he lifted him out of the car into him. "Arthur?" he whispered, carrying the man quickly beneath the protection of a huge Oak tree whilst the rain continued to pour, "speak to me" he whispered.  
The Englishman groaned and curled his hands into fists on the younger nations chest, clutching his shirt desperately. "Y-y-you're bleeding" he whispered quietly, looking up at the American.  
"It's nothing" Alfred murmured, slowly lifting Arthur off of him and onto the floor. The larger nation took off his jacket and draped it over the smaller man beside him. "Stay here" he murmured, standing up and walking into the rain again, "there should be some camping gear in the trunk". Alfred trudged across the field and grabbed the tent and the sleeping bag, put them both over his shoulders before he looked back. That darn English dumbass! He was limping towards him through the storm, wincing as he walked. "You're impossible" he muttered, quickly striding over to Arthur and lifting him onto his shoulders. Surprisingly there was no struggling on the smaller nations part, and he busied himself with putting a bright pink band-aid over the cut on the bigger man's head, much to Alfred's discomfort. "I am going to put up the tent" he said, putting his mentor down on the dry ground, "and you are going to get changed out of those wet things. I have some clothes you can borrow...". Alfred went back into the rain and was in the process of putting the tent up when he heard the other comment.  
"Hurry up to bloody idiot, you're shirt is almost see through!".  
Alfred turned to look at Arthur and smiled when he saw the blush on the man's cheek. "If it bothers you then why do you stare?" he asked. With a mischievous grin he took his shirt off and tossed it towards Arthur, his tanned skin now shining in the moonlight from the rain. "Right!" he said, hammering the last of the tent pegs in, "go and strip off, you can use my jacket to cover yourself up...when you're done just put your wet clothes outside the tent and we can wash them tomorrow". He smiled again at the blushing nation and moved across the field, trying not to slip over. But, of course, he did. There was a clap of mighty thunder followed by a flash of lightning and Alfred cried out in fear before he slipped over into the mud. "Crud!" he cried, stumbling up.  
By the time that Alfred had returned to the tent, he was covered head to toe in mud and dripping with rain, although miraculously the clothes he had gotten for them were dry. "Arthur? I got some of my clothes, you're-". Alfred stopped as he crawled into the tent and saw Arthur naked before him, only his jacket covering him. The younger nation blushed, his skin tinting deep red and he reached out, handed the older man some clothes. "They might be a bit big" he murmured, biting his lip as he slid away, "but they're dry...I'm going to change outside, erm...yeah". Just as he got out of the mouth of the tent and his face was battered with rain he felt a tugging on his arm. The larger nation cried as he fell back into the tent, landing on his tailbone he groaned.  
"Don't be stupid you bloody moron. You'll just get more wet out there!".  
"It was going to get some of the mud off!" Alfred snapped back, but he crawled into a further corner of the tent and then blushed again. "Sorry it's a bit small" he whispered, "this is a four man tent...but it turns into a one man when I'm in here...cramped" he added.  
"It's fine" replied Arthur, "are you going to sit in your wet clothes all night? Come on, get out of them" he told Alfred, as he buttoned up his borrowed shirt.  
After hesitating for a moment the Yank unzipped his pants and slid out of them before he chuckled. "You're buttoned up all wrong Arthur!" Alfred exclaimed, leaning over his companion, "come here...". The American slowly undid Arthur's shirt again but instead of doing it back up he stopped, just holding Arthur's shirt open.  
"Get on with it you twat, I'm freezing here!".  
"Arthur..." whispered Alfred in response, lifting his hand to catch the Englishman's eye.  
"A-are you okay A-Alfred?" asked the older man, red blotches of blush rising on his skin.  
"I...I er...". He slowly bent forwards so the older man laid back beneath him. "Arthur" he whispered, reaching up and stroking the Brit's cheek with his shaky hand, "you're...you're blushing...".  
"I'm not the only one" he got in reply, as the father figure beneath him reached up and held his cheek. "You've got warm skin" the Englishman commented.  
"You're cold-d" Alfred whispered back, before he slowly bent and then hesitated. "Earlier you said I hated you, Arthur".  
"S-s-so I did-d-d".  
"I could never hate you" the American replied in a whispering voice, before he slowly bent and pressed his lips to the neck of the blushing man beneath him whose breathing had already increased from normal.  
"A-ALFRED!" the older nation gasped, his eyes wide, "What-t-t are you doing-g?" he exclaimed as the younger nation slid his hand down his chest and onto his crotch.  
"I'm going with my feelings" he whispered. "Arthur, when I saw France with you today...it made my blood boil. I was ready to murder him! But in the back of my mind, I...I had this feeling. The thought about what it would be like if I was in France's position, if you were trapped by me...If I was to kiss you. If I was to hold you...". Alfred took a deep breath before he forgot all of his apprehensions and kissed the man beneath him, the pent up feelings that had been building within him being released in that one kiss, and Alfred clutched the Brit closer to him, slipped his tongue through his mentors lips.  
"Nghh" Arthur moaned, giving into his own feelings and pushing his tongue through Alfred's lips.  
The American groaned himself and moved his lips from Arthur's, started to kiss down his chest. "I've never done anything like this before" he whispered, his lips moving past the older nations belly button, "but I'm not scared...because that's what love is, Arthur". One of his warm hands slipped to Arthur's boxers and snuck beneath the material.  
"AHH! A-ALFRED!" cried the Brit, tensing his hand into the groundsheet beneath them.  
"I love you Arthur".  
With a grin the yank pulled Arthur's boxer shorts down with his teeth and then, without hesitation, slipped the man into his mouth.  
"Nghh, A-Alfred-d-d, I, I love you too! NYAHH! ALFRED!". Arthur groaned and clamped his eyes shut, pushed his fingers more into the ground through the plastic sheet at the bottom of the tent.  
The American grinned and began to softly suck whilst his hand slid between the Brit's legs and gently rubbed as Arthur squirmed.  
"HAA! AHH! NghhhUH! A-AHH! ALFRED!". The Brit squirmed more beneath Alfred's scrutiny and his hips automatically jerked upwards into Alfred's mouth, making the American shock backwards, choking.  
Alfred slowly crawled up and took a deep breath before he moved to Arthur's side and brushed some hair from the sweating forehead of his father-figure. "Are you okay?" he whispered, worriedly, "was it...okay?".  
The British man shot up and suddenly kissed Alfred in a fit of passion, crushing their lips together almost desperately. Consequently Alfred fell backwards and Brit was straddling his waist as they kissed, the two men's hips rubbing together.  
"NYAH!" Alfred gasped as their hips made contact. With a new feeling of lust running through him, Alfred pushed up and grabbed the smaller man's wrists, pinned them against the tarpaulin floor.  
"A-Alfred" whispered the older of the two, shaking with fear, anticipation and excitement all wrapped together in one, "what-t are you doing-g-g?" he repeated as he had said the same thing earlier.  
"I have no idea" he growled, tightening his hands around Arthur's wrists and pressing them harder into the ground, "which makes it more thrilling". The younger of the two removed his boxer shorts and then positioned himself between the Brit's legs, kissed the man beneath him before he slowly pulled apart his legs.  
"Nghh, nyahhh" moaned the English nation against the American's lips, breathing hard. He had an idea of what his former son was planning...and he was preparing for that pain that would come. But he also knew that there would be pleasure in it...He had never seen Alfred so crazed and alive! It made him smile...It made him smile that he could cause Alfred so much pleasure!  
As their tongues intertwined the pounding in Alfred's hips grew and he tensed his strong muscles, desperately trying to hold it back...The feelings...But he couldn't! "I love you so much" the large American growled against the others lips before he moved forwards and penetrated Arthur, immediately gasping for breath as his mentor cried out to him.  
"AHH! ALFRED!" Arthur cried out, tears leaking out from his tightly closed eyes, "Is this-AHH!-position OKAY! HAAA!".  
"It's...fine" hissed the larger man in return groaning as he continued to pound in and out of his companion, the lust and want completely blinding him to anything else as sweat built up on his arms, beads of it sliding down his arms which were bulging with tensed muscles onto the man's chest beneath him as he gasped for breath.  
The American growled and clenched his teeth as his forehead dropped onto Arthur's shoulder. "I can't...I-I can't hold—ARTHUR!". Alfred pushed all the way into the moaning man beneath him and let himself explode into him as he breathed hard. As the tent stopped shaking around them, he pulled out and rolled onto his back beside the silent Englishman, his heart pounding desperately. The black spots started to disappear from his vision as he gulped air, staring blankly at the top of the tent.  
"Alfred" came a soft whisper, "A-Alfred...Y-you o-okay?".  
The larger nation rolled onto his side, facing the man who had a worried expression on his face. "I'm fine" he replied, "you're crying...". Alfred reached forwards and stroked the tears away from his mentors cheek. "How bad did it hurt?".  
Arthur blushed and gingerly shuffled forwards so his face was pressed into the other's chest, his warmth running through him and calming him. Alfred's warmth..."It wasn't so bad" he sniffed.  
"Don't lie to me Arthur...".  
He sighed and cinched his arms around the American's torso. "It didn't hurt so bad" he repeated, "I promise...". The Brit yawned and closed his eyes, the pounding of his former child's heart drowning out the sound of the rain, his comforting smell helping him fall asleep...He hadn't been able to sleep very well ever since America had left him, but now Arthur was back in the arms of his son, his brother...The friend had desperately missed.  
"I hate it when you lie" Alfred whispered back, hugging the older nation close to him before he nuzzled into the man's hair and smiled a little. "I love you so much...even though you can be a jerk sometimes" he murmured before he, too, drifted into dreams.


End file.
